


Breakfast in Sydney

by alley_oops, jennandanica



Series: A Breath of Home [9]
Category: Actor RPF, Australian Actor RPF, True Blood RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-01
Updated: 2011-12-01
Packaged: 2017-10-26 18:15:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/286421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alley_oops/pseuds/alley_oops, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandanica/pseuds/jennandanica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Ryan meet at the San Diego Comic Con and hot sex ensues. In this chapter, they're both in Australia, filming different projects and Sam's flown in from Margaret River to Sydney for a surprise visit. Breakfast brings serious discussion and the realization that they're not on the same page at all.</p><p>
  <i>Fuck. Sam's heart drops into his stomach and he looks away. He should have known better. "Yeah," he says softly, nodding, telling himself Ryan's right. It was a stupid fucking idea in the first place, thinking he could have anything more with another man. With Ryan.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breakfast in Sydney

**Author's Note:**

> For anyone familiar with the RPG Citadel, this is NOT backstory for our pups in the game. In Citadel, Sam is played as the actor and Ryan is played AU as a songwriter. And then a little birdie told us our boys were going to be at SDCC at the same time in real life and we couldn't pass up the opportunity to see what would happen in another world, with the boys both as their actor selves.

The room service delivery man is long gone, Ryan's starving, and their breakfast is getting cold. He checks the clock again, then rolls his eyes. He could wait all fucking day and never get fed.

In a few minutes he flops onto the bed, and spends a long moment just studying Sam in his sleep. Then with a wicked grin he brings the cordless razor to within an inch of Sam's bearded cheek, and flicks it on, the loud buzzing filling his ears.

Sam wakes in a flash, starting wildly, eyes wide and his heart pounding. "Jesus fuck," he cries out. "What are you doing?" Eyeing Ryan and the razor in his hand.

Gleeful, Ryan sits back and shuts off the razor. "Come on, get up," he tells Sam. "I forgot how you take your coffee." He didn't forget, though. Remembers way too much about Sam. He tosses the razor onto the nightstand and heads back into the next room to - finally - start on his breakfast.

"Black," Sam says, stumbling out of the bed, his jeans dragged up over his hips before he follows Ryan into the other room. "What the heck were you doing with the razor?"

"Waking you up," Ryan replies, popping a fresh strawberry into his mouth. "I'm hungry, and it seemed rude to start without you." His eyes are dancing as he pours a fragrant cup of steaming coffee and hands it to Sam.

"So instead you thought you'd pretend to cut my beard off?" Sam says, taking a seat with his cup of coffee.

Ryan shrugs. "It got you moving," he points out. He sits down opposite Sam at the small table, their knees nearly brushing. And he starts loading a plate with food -- fresh Belgian waffles with strawberries and whipped cream, fat sausages and sizzling bacon. He sets the loaded plate in front of Sam and adds a bowl of tapioca pudding as well. "Do you like fruit? There are pastries, too."

"No, this is good. Great actually," Sam says, eyes wide at all the food, his stomach already grumbling. "Do you always eat like this?" Ryan must have the metabolism of a fucking hummingbird if he does.

"Um. Mostly, I guess." Ryan's own plate has a lot more fruit on it, though; he'd just thought that Sam might appreciate the whipped cream. "If I don't get at least forty grams of protein at breakfast I'm just dragging by lunch," he explains. "I mean, if I know I've got a naked scene coming up, then for a couple of days I'll just do lean chicken and vegetables. Boring as fuck, but with an end in sight. Otherwise, I know whatever I eat I'm going to work off within twenty-four hours anyway."

Sam smiles, listening to Ryan talk. He doesn't even eat yet. Just sits there, staring at Ryan. Until he realizes exactly what he's doing. "You're really disciplined," he says, finally digging in, wondering if Ryan noticed. Hopefully not.

Ryan shrugs. "I guess." He knows he is. But for him it's nothing special, it's simply the way he runs his life. "So are you, though. I keep hearing all these rumours that you've done ten films in four years and you're declaring a holiday... is that true?" He eyes Sam over the rim of his teacup.

"Nah. Fucking papers," Sam says, shaking his head. "I told a few people I was looking forward to having a break finally and the next thing I know everyone's got me retiring."

"That's a relief," Ryan breathes. He's been hearing it for weeks, and it had made him unaccountably nervous... "I was afraid you were about to disappear. Into the wilds of Borneo or someplace. A mountaintop in Nepal." _Somewhere I couldn't see you_. He selects a pastry with sweet cream cheese filling, and breaks it open to lick the cream from the center.

Sam laughs. "No. Originally I was thinking I might take off for a couple of weeks. You know, India or something like that, but now I'm thinking I might just drop in on my mum and dad for a bit and then head back to the states. Hang out with my various mates. See you if you're around."

Ryan looks up at that, eyeing Sam. "Yeah, I'll be around." He licks a fleck of cheese filling from his upper lip, then grins. "Am I one of your mates now?"

"You are for anyone asking," Sam says, his heart thumping like crazy when he adds, "but I'm hoping you're more."

That stops Ryan short. He slumps back in his armchair, eyeing Sam in speculation. "I don't think we can be much more," he says softly, hating the words even as he speaks them. "I mean, you, with... and me..." He drags a hand through his hair, frowning. "It's not like we can start escorting each other to premieres or anything, you know? Just... sex." He feels like such an asshole for saying it.

Fuck. Sam's heart drops into his stomach and he looks away. He should have known better. "Yeah," he says softly, nodding, telling himself Ryan's right. It was a stupid fucking idea in the first place, thinking he could have anything more with another man. With Ryan.

Silence stretches between them, so taut it might break. "Is that unforgivably cynical of me?" Ryan asks quietly. He blows out a breath. "I like you a lot, Sam. Not just the sex - which is fucking amazing - but I like _you_. You're fun to be with. And you're a good guy."

He's a good guy. Christ. Sam looks back over at Ryan. "It's okay. I get it. You don't have to say anything. It's just sex," he says, picking up his fork once more, even though the very last thing he feels like doing right now is eating.

Ryan chews on his bottom lip, studying Sam. He doesn't know what Sam had in mind for this thing between them. And at the moment, he's too chickenshit to ask. "How about really hot obsessive sex?" he asks softly.

"Yeah, sure," Sam nods, forcing a smile and taking a sip of his coffee since anything else would get stuck in his throat. "You said you were doing some training today. When were you planning on doing that?" he asks. He hasn't come all this way to miss out on seeing Ryan but he'll take the time Ryan's out or gone to regroup, shove all his emotions way down in some fucking box.

"I usually head out after breakfast. Hit the sand," Ryan answers. His stomach is roiling with unease. "You want to come with me? I promise I'll go easy on you..."

There's a bitter comment on the tip of Sam's tongue about what if someone sees them but he bites it back, knowing he's being an ass. "Yeah, sure," he says after a moment. Determined to make the best of things.

"Okay." Ryan drowns the last of his waffle in syrup, but makes no move to actually eat it. "Or we could just stay here, if you want." He fucked up; he gets that. But he's got no idea what to offer in consolation other than sex. "You said I could rim you."

"No, I don't want to fuck up your plans," Sam says, and yeah, really, that could be taken a couple of different ways. He smiles again, trying really hard to get them back on track. "You can rim me later."

 _Ouch._ Ryan tosses back the last of his tea, then gets to his feet. "Okay," he says again. He heads into the closet and digs up his workout clothes, then sits on the sofa to lace up his trainers.

"I didn't bring anything other than jeans," Sam says, watching Ryan. "Is that okay?" Fishing a long-sleeved t-shirt from his bag.

Ryan looks over at him thoughtfully. _Fuck, I am a fucking idiot_. "Whatever you've got is fine," he says, pushing to his feet and kicking his trainers right back off. In three steps he closes the distance between them and wraps his arms around Sam. "I don't have to train every day," he mutters, licking over Sam's lips.

Sam grins. "Yeah, but I don't want to be a bad influence," he teases, pretending (half-heartedly) to pull away.

"Yeah, well, if I don't place in the top three then I'll come after you." Ryan lets go of Sam just long enough so he can yank his shirt off and kick down his shorts. Then he starts tugging at Sam's clothes. "Get naked," he says, his voice soft but determined. "And get on the bed."

"Yes, sir," Sam murmurs, eyes sparkling. He drops his jeans and crawls onto the bed. "How do you want me?"

"Um." Now that, Ryan has to think about. "Um. On your back," he decides. He hops and peels off his socks, tossing them aside, then sits down on the bed between Sam's spread thighs. "I love your body," he whispers, trailing his fingertips from Sam's hips down to his knees, and then back up again.

"I should work out more," Sam says, his cock jerking lightly, already filling, at Ryan's touch. "I'm not anywhere near as fit as you."

Ryan shrugs. It's not a denial, he knows Sam's words are true; he just doesn't care. "You are so fucking sexy," he breathes. He leans down and licks at Sam's nipple, circling it with his tongue.

"Mm. That feels good," Sam groans, sliding his hand into Ryan's hair. He's refusing to think of this morning, Ryan's words, his own stupidity, the fact that there's nowhere for this to go. Forcing himself to focus on Ryan's mouth, on how fucking good he feels, on the sex. Just sex.

Moving lower, Ryan licks over Sam's abs and down his pleasure trail, dark hair soft beneath his tongue. He mouths his way down Sam's cock, then slowly takes him in, moving slowly along the length of Sam's prick, all wet warmth.

That makes it even easier to focus, every fucking thought fleeing Sam's brain, leaving him a mess of nerves and skin and fuck, _sogood_ pleasure. "Oh, fuck," he breathes, hand tightening in Ryan's hair.

Damn, Ryan loves that -- the pull of hands in his hair when he's going down on someone. Male or female. He loves the way women taste, how soft and inviting they are, how tiny muscles tremor in their thighs when they're on the verge of coming. But men -- they're a different game altogether. Powerful flesh and bone beneath his hands, a scent like his own yet still compelling. He teases at the head of Sam's cock, tongue circling the crown. And sucks him hungrily down.

It's brilliant. Perfect. So fucking hot and wet and Sam moans, hips rocking, pushing his cock deeper, snug tight into Ryan's throat.

It's easier this time, easier to fight the instinct to pull away. Ryan laps at Sam's erection, taking the time and learning his responses. But he doesn't want to stop here. Easing off, he pushes Sam's thighs wider and licks over his balls. Then at the sensitive skin behind them. And then Ryan swipes his tongue over Sam's hole.

There's something about knowing this is Ryan's first time doing this that only ramps up Sam's arousal. He moans his approval, spreading his legs even wider, offering himself up to Ryan, fingers gently stroking his hair now. _More._

Ryan rubs the tiny pucker with his tongue, absorbing texture, flavor. He slowly starts to relax into what he's doing, worrying less about whether or not he's getting it right... and focusing more on Sam's responses. Gently he pokes just the tip of his tongue inside.

"Unh." Sam's cock thumps against his belly and he hopes like hell Ryan's not planning on stopping there.

That sounds pretty good. Ryan grins and tries it again, and this time he goes deeper, thrusting his tongue past the resistance.

Something suspiciously like a whimper spills from Sam's lips and he struggles to stay still, to let Ryan take this at his own pace. "Yeah, that's it..." he whispers, hoping the words are enough.

 _Jesus_. In a second Ryan feels better about all those vulnerable sounds he's been making with Sam. He sets up a steady rhythm, fucking his tongue into Sam again and again. And when he feels the muscle is loosening up, he gently pushes his finger inside, curving to hit that bundle of nerves.

Sam cries out as Ryan breaches him, muscles clamping down tight for an instant, his cock jerking sharply, smearing his stomach with precome. "Oh, fuck, yeah..." he groans, urging Ryan on.

Fuck, yeah. Ryan's into it now, taken over and losing himself in Sam's body. "Can you come like this?" he gasps, immediately pushing his tongue back inside, finger working. His own prick throbbing.

Sam nods. He hasn't in a long time but he can. And he _does_ , knowing that's what Ryan wants from him. To feel Sam's body clench convulsively, tightening around his finger and tongue, again and again, cock spraying over his stomach and chest.

Ryan can only moan, overwhelmed in the best of ways. When Sam starts to relax he pulls out, only to flop down on the mattress next to him. In a flash his hand is on his own cock, working it roughly.

That is so fucking hot. Sam rolls onto his side to watch. He's tempted for a moment to help but Christ, this is one of his long-standing fantasies too. Watching Ryan jack off.

Ordinarily Ryan would be self-conscious about doing this. Right now? _Damn_. He closes his eyes and sneaks his left hand up to pinch and tug at one of his nipples, sharply combining a wicked edge of pain with the pleasure. He can feel Sam's gaze hot on his skin. It's not long before he arches and cries out, spilling over his fingers.

Sam groans, his cock throbbing despite having already come. "That was incredible," he says when Ryan finally opens his eyes again.

For a long moment Ryan just stares at him, still half-hazed. Then he wraps his clean hand around Sam's nape and pulls him in for a deep kiss.

Sam's quick to lose himself in Ryan's mouth, their tongues tangling, their bodies pressed together. He's never wanted anyone like this before. Never. But he's just going to have to accept this is all it can ever be.

[To chapter ten](http://archiveofourown.org/works/288230)


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